


handle with care

by spyfodder



Category: Deus Ex: Human Revolution
Genre: M/M, general fluff from three years ago, the angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 14:16:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20472404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spyfodder/pseuds/spyfodder
Summary: some parcel shifting may occur during transit





	handle with care

**Author's Note:**

> was feeling a bit black and gold lately and remembered this had been written up some time ago. please enjoy my tiny offering that makes no sense.

Sarif had been dismissive about them. 

Adam had only felt his stomach and artificial heart sink to the floor, the sickening re-realization of his otherness seeping through the cracks in his foundation thought repaired. Good thing David was used to it by now, the pale expression and the diversion of eyes that heralded inevitable tears. 

Adam didn’t touch Sarif when his head was pulled down to rest on a waiting shoulder, to hide his shame and fear.

“You didn’t hurt me, Adam,” it was firm, lacking any note of chastising, David tugging the collar of his dress shirt aside to eye the sallow bruises that were most certainly four fingers and a thumb, located in the meat of his shoulder and scraping across the soft spot beneath his collar bone. A crime of passion, he thought, the image of Adam’s face, lost in hard-won ecstasy flitting through his mind. _Not now, old man._ David turned from the shattered mirror and scolded himself, instead. “They’re just bruises, they’ll heal.”

“They will, but that’s not… the problem,” the problem is _me_, unsaid from where Adam still laid on his side in bed. He was supposed to be relaxing, not worrying about the fact that he had most likely nearly broken Sarif’s bones in the middle of… of…

“Adam,” softly said, and the mattress dipped as David knelt into it, leaning over to stroke fingers through the other man’s hair - a gesture that had tied itself to comfort, and seemed to work in the moment. “We’ll talk about it when I’m back. Just try to rest, alright?” Fingertips of the flesh kind trailed over the side of Adam’s neck, over dermal anchors with such lightness that he couldn’t prevent the shiver that ran through him, chased away by warm lips against his temple. “Sleep, or you’ll have something to really worry about.”

Adam managed to fall asleep, for a while. Dreamless, he rose some time later to stare at the dim light from his desk, mind blank and communications blessedly silent. Dusk was coming on, he knew, and the hollow in his belly demanded to be fed. Sarif would be back soon, as well, another emptiness filled, even if it brought back regret. 

One call and two orders later, Adam found himself tucked into the corner of his couch, halfway watching a home being remodeled and halfway entranced with running fingertips along the legs he could not quite feel anymore, his brain trying to connect the half-erased dots of touch.

Patience, he thought. He had more than enough now. He would learn. 

_“His body can take it.”  
By God, David Sarif prayed, let him have the mind as well._


End file.
